


Show Dogs

by Patchouli (lifelesslyndsey)



Series: How To Teach An Old Dog New Tricks [16]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Mile High Club, Stark Expo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 08:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifelesslyndsey/pseuds/Patchouli
Summary: “Welcome,” she says, with a deprecating little laugh. “To the Tony Stark Expo.”Tony chokes, a little because it’s not. It’s not the Tony Stark Expo.





	Show Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write out the stark expo but it was kind of boring, so I wrote mile high porn and cute shit instead.

“You have the suit,” Darcy asks, for the third time, on their flight to Vegas for the Expo.  She’s twitchy in the seat beside him, smoothing her hands over her leggings over and over.

 

“Tom Ford. It’s a three-piece.” At her look, he raises his sleeve, to show the smooth, fitted gauntlet beneath the fabric molded over half his forearms. It’s not a _full_ suit, but it serves him well. He has similar devices on the heels of his shoes, and a working prototype for clipping to the back of Darcy’s heels. So far, he could swing a wedge heel, but the stilettos just don’t offer up enough room. Maybe he could recruit some kids from the nano-tech division---

 

“They’re going to pull something,” Darcy mutters, and he takes her hand into his own, tangling their fingers just to watch her whole body jerk as she makes herself not rip herself away.  She _likes_ the casual affection, she just doesn’t know _how_ to like it.  Tony thinks it’s funny.

 

Finally, she settles, with their hands in his lap, Tony brushing his thumb across hers over and over. “Nothing we aren’t ready for. “ Tony’s not so naive to think that SHIELD isn’t going to act on their offense.  Darcy pissed them off, and while it was both scorchingly attractive and necessary, he knows there will be consequences.  “Honestly Darcy. They’re fools if they think they can come into my playground and----”

 

“They _are_ fools,” Darcy interrupts. “You’re right. You’re right. We’ve got this. I’m just on edge.”

 

“Wanna make out?” Tony thinks he could probably make her come without taking her leggings off, just a hand between her thighs, and no one would even notice. The jet is spacious, enough, lavish really and it’s only the five of them.  Natasha’s in the cockpit, making the pilot nervous with her distrustful micromanaging.  Steve and Barnes are playing cards.  Bruce and his mini-me are both passed out in the squishy chairs across from Tony.  (“I kept him up all night so he’d sleep the trip! Oh--no. Not like that. We were working on----” Peter had explained, but Tony lost interest after ‘not like that'). Thor and Clint had offered to remain at the Tower in case of Avenger-related Emergencies, with Sam and Rhodey on stand-by.  And Scott Lang in a pinch, but Tony would really prefer they never call him. “I could get you off?”

 

“Well, if you---wait no it would be rude,” Darcy frowns, fingers twitching in his own. It’s not a _no_ and Tony knows she’s at least half considering the idea. She’s not shy about telling people to fuck off, after all.  “Steve and Bucky are like--- _right there_.”

 

Tony grins. He’s parsing out her brain, how it works, how to play the game.  Darcy’s got a very elaborate and convoluted system of morality when it comes to what you should, and shouldn’t do in front of others and it’s mostly scaled against scandal and offense. “Please, you wouldn’t even hesitate if we weren’t dating.”

 

“Well yeah, because it's not rude to make out with Tony Stark; it’s scandalous and that’s fine. But making out with your boyfriend while his friends are forced to watch is rude.” She sniffs at him, and the haughty little thing she does with her mouth when she sneers at him --- Tony’s dick twitches.  

 

She called him her _boyfriend_.  Tony doesn’t bring it up.  She does it a lot, but if you asked her, she’d staunchly deny it and possibly kick you in the shin. “Sugar,” he says, curling his body toward her, blocking out Steve and Bucky. He doesn’t know when, but somewhere in the last week, sugar baby became an endearment. “ Unless you don’t want to because you can’t keep quiet?”  He’s baiting her, but she knows it.  Darcy likes games, and well....Tony’s been called a player for years.

 

She whips around to look at him, steely eyed. “I’m not loud. Shut up.”

 

“Didn’t say you were.” She is. She’s gorgeous-loud and filthy-mouthed, especially when she comes. Tony’s got several sound files saved on his phone of her cursing and coming, and crying his name. For reasons.  “I said you couldn’t keep quiet. Does Steve know what you look like when you---”

 

“ _Tony_.” Her thighs clamp down on his hand, and Tony moves to pull it away (because a no is a no, even if it’s your girlfriend) when her legs spread a little farther and she grabs his wrist and holding him in place. “I’m not loud,” she hisses again, pulling her other hand out of his, to curl into the front of his shirt.

 

“Didn’t say you were.” He presses the words right against the corner of her mouth and she takes the bait, turning to kiss him.  “But you could prove it?”

 

Steve and Barnes are father up in the cabin on the other side of the half-partition that separates Tony’s Space from Everyone Else. It isn’t a doorway, more just a visible division of space because what’s the point of gloating if no one can see? Steve has his back to them, Barnes on the other side of the narrow table. There’s a table in front of Darcy and Tony’s reclining chairs too, holding twin highball glasses of scotch and soda half drank on little cloth napkins, Darcy’s with a purple bendy straw. Neither the table nor the partition offers anything but the _illusion_ of privacy, but even that’s a moot point because Darce’ pulls Tony on half top of her.

 

Tony grins.

 

They kiss. A lot. Tony’s spent more time making out with Darcy than he did making out with a collective anyone in all his teen years.  He spends more time kissing than any respectable forty-five-year-old man should, but given that his girlfriend is a critically-hot, twenty-two-year old- _babe_....he loves every minute of it.  It’s how they start their day and finish it, and sometimes he comes up to her office to kiss her through her lunch break. Sometimes they fuck, sometimes they don’t. But they always kiss. Kissing is foreplays foreplay, and Tony’s all about that long-con.

 

She makes a little noise when he brushes his fingers across her cunt, and Tony smiles into a kiss. He’s hard, but---he’s always hard around her. He’s spent the last year and more in a constant state of _semi-erect._  It’s done absolute _shit_ for his stamina - he always feels half ready to go off when she’s around, and the novelty of fucking her hasn’t worn off enough for him to last any respectable amount of time. It’s something they’re working (diligently) on.  But then, she doesn’t care _how_ she gets hers, so long as she gets hers and Tony can work with that.  Works with it three, or four times a day, really. Wants to work with it right now.

 

Tony pulls his hand way just long enough to pop the button on the side of the chair, sending them sailing back into something a little more horizontally inclined. Darcy’s laugh loses itself to a breathy little moan when he fits his fingers against her again, this time with more room to work with.  He props himself up with his other arm and ignoring her mouth to kiss along her jaw, and neck as he rubs his thumb against her clit, and presses against her entrance through the cotton.  She muffles a moan into his throat and Tony takes a minute to marvel at how _easy_ she is. She’s every bit as keyed up as him, at any given time, every bit as ready.   She’s already wet, already into it, even after her (pathetically weak) protest. The protests, he realizes, are maybe just part of the game.  He pulls his hand away, smiles at her little huff of protest, before slipping them under the elastic band of her leggings---

 

“ _Fuck_.”

 

They both say it in perfect tandem.  Tony feels his dick twitch against Darcy’s hip when his fingers slide through her pussy, slick and familiar.  He wonders if she’s like this for everyone, prefers to think it’s for him and chooses to do so because his ego allows for that kind of self-importance.  She pushes against him, lifting her hips and Tony doesn’t feel compelled to give her what she wants, just yet. He thumbs her clit instead, in hard, fast circles the way she told him (showed him, with her legs spread wide, no shyness, and her own hand on her cunt, God, Tony will never fucking forget).  

 

He’s hard, wants nothing more to grind down against her but they only just barely have plausible deniability on their side as it is, making out like teenagers in the back of the jet.  Darcy’s got both arms wrapped around his neck, hands tangled in his hair. Tony teases her until he can’t take it anymore, the need to get some part of himself inside her. He pushes two fingers into her cunt, keeps them still so he can feel her clench around them. It doesn’t even matter that it’s not his dick fucking into her, he still _feels_ it in his balls.  He thinks he might have been numb to life, before Darcy, and never noticed it. Everything just feels like more, now.

 

When she comes, she cries out against his throat, teeth scraping against his skin. Tony works her through it, wondering how long it’ll take him to get himself off in the bathroom (not...not very long).  She lets herself flop back against the seat, hands still curled loosely in his shirt. He---maybe doesn’t pull his hand out of her pants, right away. He likes the way she feels, wet and lush and open for him, too much.  She twitches when he touches her clit, too sensitive, and Tony leaves it be. Mostly. She winks at him, and he wonders what she’s up too as she pulls him close to whisper, very, _very_ quietly in his ear.

 

“Steve doesn’t know what I look like when I come because he fucked me from behind. Knows what I sound like, though.”

 

In front of them, Steve’s knees slam into the underside of the table, as his shoulders hunch and he fumbles his cards, spilling them all over for Barnes to see. “ _Darcy_.”

 

“You could hear that?”  Tony---is surprised.  The jet is quiet, million dollar technology, but there are some sounds you can’t escape. Air conditioning, the gentle hum of the engine, the sound of the music playing overhead.  Darcy had barely whispered it. But Steve had heard it. Which means, Steve also heard---

 

“Do you gotta talk 'bout _that_ when you’re--you’re---” Steve flushes and stares down his mess of cards. Tony wonders if he’s hard under the table. “He’s still----” Thinks he might be, judging by the pink of his ears. “Hell.”

 

“Talk about what?” Barnes demands, frowning at Steve as he folds his own cards into a neat pile. “What are you talking about?”

 

“That time Steve bent me over a couch and---”

 

“You slept with _her_ ?”  Barnes looks impressed, and yeah. Tony feels smug. He probably shouldn't feel smug that a Cold War Era ex-assassin seems impressed that Captain America banged his girlfriend, but he is. He’s smug. Bucky whips around to look at Darcy, whose busy stretching shamelessly, like a cat. Her nipples are hard beneath her thin t-shirt, and bralette thing and Tony counts it as a personal victory. It’s not cold in the jet. Tony still has two fingers inside of her. “Damn. _Damn_ . Were you two just---” He looks at Tony, the way he’s still a little curled over Darcy. Tony winks. “We’re sitting _right here_.”

 

“It’s my jet, I’ll do what I want.” He feels compelled to fuck her in the isles, all of a sudden. Something about Barnes brings out his competitive streak. Tony doesn’t care to understand the impulse.

 

Steve flushes. “I didn’t---I wasn’t listening on purpose----”

 

Darcy makes a show of drawing Tony’s hand out of her leggings (and out of her cunt). “Please, we both know Bucky’s hearing isn’t as sensitive, but you totally heard Tony _before_ he even put his hands on me. In me. Whatever. I thought you’d call my bluff, but you didn’t so I figured, why not?” She smirks. “Tony. Bathroom?” She tilts her head. “Unless you don’t think you can keep quiet?”

 

***

 

When he has her bent over the bathroom counter, topless with her leggings trapped around her knees and his dick buried balls deep inside her, Tony thinks ---everything he does with her is the _hottest thing he’s ever done_ .  The lacy little bra thing isn’t doing anything to keep her tits in place, and he watches in the mirror as they bounce with his every thrust. Her cheeks are pink, and her mouth is open, red and swollen from their ridiculous amount of kissing.  He has her hair tangled in one hand. She pulls _against_ it even as he fucks her and the tension turns her moans into little, choked cries. He can’t imagine what they must sound like, what Rogers is probably hearing and it---it just makes it hotter. Fucking her like this, knowing Steve and Barnes can’t help but hear.

 

“Everything I do with you is the hottest thing I’ve ever done.”

 

Darcy laughs and fucks herself back against him. “Want me to call Steve’s name when I come? ”

 

Tony comes, helpless and stupid. “You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”

 

He’s never felt so lucky in his life.

 

***

 

Darcy checks the hotel twice for bugs, in her underwear, while Tony watches.  It’s standard procedure anytime he pre-books a room anywhere, between people who want to kill him, steal his technology or post pictures of his naked ass online. She’s into it, sweeping through the room with familiar fierceness.  Jarvis could run the scan five times faster, but Tony can’t bring himself to steal her joy. Still,  it’s hard to take her seriously when she’s got little helmets and hammers on her Genuine Thor Merch boy-short underoos and striped, knee-high socks. She’s wearing Tony’s under-shirt, and her hair’s pulled up on the top of her head in a big, messy bun. She’s got this look on her face, pinched and thoughtful, as she runs her hand over everything, Tony’s scanner in the other.

 

He’s seen her pistol whip full grown men, he’s seen her get in Nick Fucking Fury’s face, he’s seen her pin a man to the ground with her thighs. But here she is, dancing around in her underwear while looking for spy-devices.  It’s the _cutest_ fucking thing he’s ever seen in his life.  If his whole life boiled down to this one, ridiculous moment, he thinks that’d be okay.  She finds three, Tony finds two, Jarvis finds the rest: they drop them in a bottle of complimentary champagne and work in a quickie before heading downstairs.

 

***

 

Pepper used to introduce him at the opening of the Expo.  She did it for years, as his assistant.  Pep has always had a way with people, a charming disposition that could sway the masses.  Darcy....Does not have that.  Darcy always looks so viciously out of place, that her presence demands attention. From backstage, he watches on the massive, overhead screens as she glides across the platform stage in the fucking ---she’s wearing the fucking Iron Man shoes. The ones she wore when she told SHIELD to fuck off. He wonders if they’re their own warning, or if maybe she wore them for him and he thinks it’s probably both. With Darcy, it usually is.  He grins.  The sharp gold studs glint brightly against the stage lights, glimmering like diamonds.  She looks tiny, even with the five-inch heels.  She looks cute, struggling to adjust the mic to her high, before giving up and yanking it out of the stand with a quiet little _fuck it_ that the mic totally picks up.

 

“Welcome,” she says, with a deprecating little laugh. “To the Tony Stark Expo.”

 

Tony chokes, a little because it’s not. It’s not the _Tony_ Stark Expo.

 

“My bad. Sorry, sorry. The Stark Expo. Except---he i _s_ Stark. He is Howard and Maria Stark.  Yeah, the Stark from Stark Tower. The Stark from all your Stark phones and Stark pads, and Stark everything, because Stark innovation is what your dreams are made of.” She looks off stage, where the PR people are probably _twitching_. “You know what? Here, I wasn’t reading these anyway,” she tosses her note cards to the crowd. “Sell them on Ebay, Tony totally touched them.  Tony Stark is Stark Industries, Stark Enterprise, and soon, Stark International.  Welcome to the Tony Stark Show everybody, because let’s be real. We all know why we’re here.  Tony Stark, ladies, and gentlemen.” She holds her hand to stage left, where the PR people are tugging him along.  She winks as she hands him the mic, dodging him before he can grab her and hold her in place and that’s fine---

 

“That’s my girlfriend.” He points for emphasis, even as she whips around off stage to glare at him. “She’s hot right? Yeah. Okay! So, as my girlfriend put it, welcome to the Tony Stark Show!”

 

***

 

They make sure to catch Aviations.  Jimmy seems incapable of stringing a sentence together in front of a crowd, and so Bethany commandeers the mic as Joanna demonstrates the street use of the crowd.  Bethany, decidedly, does not have the same commandeering affect on a crowd that Darcy does, but the Protojet holds its own by sheer novelty.  Behind them, on the screens, are video clips of Darcy pulling off the goddamn barrel roll landing.  Clips from the vid had made it into the paper, but Darcy had never been identified. They’d called her codename Jet, which Tony found appropriate in counterpoint to his own superhero name, not that Darcy was a superhero (but she could be, Tony thought, if she ever wanted to. He could make it happen). Tony would appreciate them more, if he wasn’t present in them, trapped under a writhing ball of tentacles.

 

***

 

After that, the Expo goes off without a hitch, and Tony’s never been more relieved. Darcy had spent the whole of three days, coiled tight like a viper. Stark Enterprise had a special committee dedicated to the Expo that spent the four years between each event planning the next one, so Darcy hadn’t even been there in an official capacity. She’d been there as his girlfriend.

 

She’d picked up a US Today on the way airport, winking at him as she held it up to reveal their picture on the bottom left corner of the front page. “Another for the scrapbook. I’m gonna frame it and put it on my desk.”

 

“Pepper will be pleased. We’re both fully clothed.”  Tony had just finished his Expo speech, on the heels of Darcy’s own introduction. He hadn’t thought anything off sweeping her off her feet and kissing her soundly like a sailor straight off a ship.  Darcy’d laughed as he dipped her back, kissing down her neck.  They look physically as tangled as they are metaphorical, arms wrapped up, clutched tight. She’s smiling, head tipped back, red mouth stretched wide on a laugh, with her eyes closed. She’s so pretty it _hurts_. The grainy newsprint photo doesn’t do her justice, and Tony makes a mental note to find the photographer and buy the picture.

 

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, I just put Bucky in there with no explanation. FIGHT ME.


End file.
